


Ganymede

by Ysaerie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Action/Adventure, Badass Harry, Bonding, Clever Harry, Dark Lord won AU, Dark Magic, Dark!Harry, Explicit Sex Scenes to come, F/F, F/M, Ganymede - Freeform, Harry has a rough childhood, Heats, Het, Infatuated Voldemort, International Crime Syndicate, M/M, Mates, Mating, Mercenary Harry, Mischievous Harry, No Bashing, No prophecy, Obsession, Orphan Harry, Professor Tom Riddle, Romance, Siren Harry, Slash, Suspense, creature!Harry, kind of slow burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-25
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-23 17:48:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13792896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ysaerie/pseuds/Ysaerie
Summary: Dark Lord won AU. Half-Siren!Harry. Mercenary!Harry.A young Harry is rescued from Merope's Orphanage by a crime boss, who, as it happens, is wanted dead-or-alive by Voldemort's regime. Years later, Harry is a coveted mercenary in his own right. But everything goes wrong during the Syndicate's latest heist, where a surprise attack lead by a stupidly powerful Death Eater with smoldering red eyes nearly wipes them all out. When Harry returns to Hogwarts for his 6th year, he's shocked to realize Hogwarts's new Defence Professor is...#1: Definitely that red-eyed DE from earlier#2: Terminally incapable of leaving Harry alone#3: Unmistakeably his MateIn which sirens are dark, lethal, alluring things, but so are Dark Lords.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I'm basically trying to fit all the tropes I like into one cohesive story, haha. We'll see how this goes! If chapters need warnings, I'll put them up in chapters notes, so if you're particularly sensitive please read them before starting a chapter (though I don't believe I'll write in anything too bad). Harry and Voldemort will both be badasses in their own right. After this chapter, there will be a time-skip-- chapter 2 actually starts off with a scene with LV in it. Buckle up guys, this is gonna be a wild ride.
> 
> I'm open to ideas and suggestions if there's anything you guys particularly want to see. Otherwise, leave any questions in PMs/comments, I'll try to respond to everyone.
> 
> Warning: old man being creepy/some gore

It wasn’t fair.

Merope's Orphanage was shadowed by the heavy rain clouds looming overhead. Energy thrummed in the air; storm static, excitement. Inside the building, secreted away in its most isolated room, Harry felt the rumbles as the massive iron gates groaned open. His heart sank. He ran to the window and pressed his face to the warm glass. A collection of little black dots swanned over the flagstone path, into the rose gardens, to the front door...

There were so many people today. Maybe if he snuck out, one of them could whisk him away before Mr Aenaes saw.

It would have to be later. After the man had a few drinks. 

Harry eased back onto his mattress. Pain flowered where bruises met hard springs and scruffy edges. Suddenly the backs of his eyes felt crowded and hate started curling low in his gut, heart so full of venom he could barely stand it. Hopelessly he tried studying the peeling wallpaper of his room, or the lopsided furniture, but the sight only made him more upset. 

He startled when a key was jammed into the door. Lock clicking open. 

Soles clacked ominously against hardwood, slow, until shiny leather shoes rested within Harry’s downturned view. A rough hand fell to his shoulder. Mr Aenaes crouched, so that they might see eye-to-eye. Harry hated the man’s eyes. They gave him the chills.

Why was he here? Didn’t he have to show off the other orphans?

“I know you’re upset with me, Harry,” the older man said, an oddly urgent undertone in his voice. “But when will you see that you don’t need them? You already have me. This place is your true home. Yours and mine.” 

Harry glowered at the floor.

The man’s hand dropped to Harry’s knee. Harry winced as a thumb brushed across the scape an older boy had given him earlier. Mr Aenaes smiled, creases at the corners of his eyes deepening, and he pressed his finger in a bit harder. “I could’ve given any one of those other children a father, but I chose you. Be grateful.” Mr Aenaes’s thumb was replaced with caressing lips.

Harry’s throat went dry. Mr Aenaes was always trying to touch him, especially when they were alone. Fatherly affection, he called it. What all dads did to their boys. The last time it happened, Harry kicked the man for reaching under his shirt and he got hit across the face for it. Would Mr Aenaes try that again?

The silence between them hung like a threat.

“My, isn’t this one precious.” It was a woman’s voice, bored and honey-rough. She leaned against the threshold, tall and pale, wearing a slinky black dress, dark sunglasses, and holding the cane of a black umbrella. Diamonds glittered at her throat. Harry had never seen someone so wondrous before. “Keeping all the lovely kittens to yourself, are you Aenaes? No need to fret. It seems your employer won’t be cross with you after all. I’m quite interested in _this_ boy.”

Mr Aenaes removed his hand from Harry’s knee and stood upright. “You are mistaken. He’s not for adoption, he’s my son. Now, Lady Chara, it seems you have lost your way, so allow me to escort you back to the Viewing.”

The woman crossed her arms and ducked her head, silent tremors coursing through her upper half. She was laughing, Harry realized with no small amount of shock. _No one_ laughed at Mr Aenaes. 

“I’d say don’t make me laugh, but you already have,” she said, elegantly separating herself from the doorframe and gliding closer towards them. “Get out of my way.” 

It all happened very fast.

Mr Aenaes grasped Lady Chara’s wrist-- the woman whipped out a wand from nowhere, sending a blast which shook the furniture. Mr Aenaes crashed into the wall. He didn’t fall, instead staying there stuck to it. An angry flush crawled up the man’s neck, his mouth moving, no sound coming out. 

Lady Chara dropped to her knees in front of Harry. She pushed up her sunglasses up so they nested in her long black hair, exposing high, sharp cheekbones, and large eyes which were an impossible shade of violet. Beautiful wasn’t the word-- striking. Harry would never forget her face.

She cupped his cheek, thumb tracing his bottom lip. “Speak to me, child. What is your name?”

He swallowed uneasily. “Harry.”

“Surname?”

Harry shifted, hazarding a look at Mr Aenaes who was glaring at them both. “Kelsey. That’s what the orphanage gave me. I don’t know my real last name.” 

Lady Chara’s irises were jumping slightly as if she couldn’t decide which of his features to focus on. “And how long have you been here darling?”

“Since I was a baby. I’m seven.” 

Red lips stretched into a smile. “Dropping by orphanages isn’t a habit of mine. Truthfully, I detest children. Yet… I hardly know how to describe it, some innate feeling I suppose, drew me here to this wretched place. Your silent pleas found my willing ears.”

“Do you have any idea how exquisite you are?” Lady Chara continued, brushing Harry’s fringe to the side. “Not quite veela… but that voice, the way you were able to call to me. You can’t be anything but siren. Half-breed. Your magic tastes delicate, alluring, but its a sorcerer’s magic. What luck have I, happening upon such a rare dove today.” 

Harry couldn’t help the blush. Inwardly, he was very pleased; everyone called him a filthy mudblood, a nobody, even Mr Aenaes did sometimes. Maybe he wasn’t destined for greatness, or even averageness, but he always knew he wasn’t _nothing_. And Lady Chara just confirmed it, didn’t she? He was somebody. Somebody special.

“No,” Mr Aenaes gasped like a wild animal. He’d found his voice. “My employer… As soon as I’m free, I’m floocalling Brandon. He’s friendly with the Dark Lord, you know. Take Harry! Take him if you want, but you’ll be running for the rest of your life.”

Lady Chara closed her eyes and smirked. Then she lashed out her wand, and Mr Aenaes’s body was split into two, blood falling in sheets down the wall. Harry shut his eyes and turned his head, but the image was already burnt into his mind. A dull thud resounded through room.

No, he had to watch this. He had to remember. 

The woman rose from her position and prowled forward. There was red. Red everywhere. Lady Chara stood in the middle of it, her pointed boots slick. “You want to know a secret?” the woman asked the body. “Your vaunted employer works for _me_.” 

She kicked the severed head into the dresser.

“Love, your eyes are open.” It was addressed to Harry, pleasure curled around her words. “Such a gruesome sight. Loved ones are supposed to shield their young from pictures like these, aren’t they? Well, my little nightingale, I’m no parent. And I don’t believe in innocence.” Lady Chara finally faced him, blood flecking her skin and a slow smile on her lips. “This world isn’t a place of choices, it’s a place of power, and I think you know that as well as I do. But I want to give you a choice-- a real choice, not the illusion of one. Don’t worry about sparing my feelings, think only of yourself. Can you do that for me?” 

Harry tentatively nodded. Lady Chara went on, “I lay before you two paths: one of gold, one of iron. The first... I send you to live with the Malfoys, who owe me a debt. They are an obnoxiously wealthy pureblood family of influence who will, once they warm up to you, love and spoil you endlessly. Send you off to Hogwarts on your eleventh birthday--” Harry’s eyes lit up and Lady Chara’s expression became sardonic “--and secure you both a proper wife and a well-paying job once you graduate. A privileged life. A good life.” 

“Or?” she breathed. “You can come with me. There’s a good chance you’ll die before adulthood. There’s an even better one you’ll die penniless, unknown, and alone. It’s a brutal life. I’ll use you, I’ll abuse you, but I can promise you this: you will have _power _.”__

____

____

Harry tried to think through his shock. Even on the deepest level, he knew this was likely the most important choice he’d ever have to make. Small fingers played with the threadbare material of his sleeves. Getting adopted by a family, let alone a rich one like the Malfoys had always been his deepest wish. And Hogwarts? The name of Britain’s premier magic school was his forbidden word, a dream didn't dare think of. The first choice was the one he ought to pick. 

And yet, he felt as though he were caught in a fleeting moment. Lady Chara wasn’t a thing people were supposed to see, but Harry saw it. When he was older he could always get money, security, maybe even friends. But if he let Lady Chara go, this was all over forever. That, he knew. 

“I’ll go. With you.”

“You made the wrong choice,” she said as she pulled her sunglasses down. “But you knew that. And it’s why you are officially now part of Ganymede. Welcome, little nightingale.”


	2. Chapter 2

Lucius Malfoy stood, fist raised in preparation to knock at the door.

“Enter.” 

His arm dropped back to his side. Swallowing uneasily, he removed his bone-white mask and grasped for the doorknob. It never got easier, being around the Dark Lord. Even multiple years without witnessing the man cast a single cruciatus, that rich, dark voice still had his blood freezing, had the fine hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.

Lucius went into the room, his breath misting from the sudden cold. Nothing in the Dark Lord’s manor could be called welcoming but his study in particular made Lucius feel out of place. It was a large stone chamber, rare books and paintings climbing high along the walls. The only source of light remained a blazing hearth at the far end, casting amber warmth over its reaches and throwing everything else into potent darkness. There were a few other inner circle Death Eaters present, namely the Lestrange brothers, Crouch, and Rosier. Lucius spied a gleam on the settee facing the fireplace. The heel of a single dragonhide shoe, shined within an inch of its life, rested on the couch arm.

“Come.” 

The blond strode in front of the couch and kneeled, maneuvering his robes so they wouldn’t trip him when he rose again. He heard the Dark Lord move, weight shifting against fabric, but wasn’t prepared for when two feet dropped by his nose with a stern _clack_. 

“My Lord,” Lucius murmured, brushing his lips across the man’s shoe. 

“Isn’t it past your bedtime, Lucius?” the Dark Lord mocked softly. The darkness around them became somehow more oppressive. “What an honor, to be graced with your enviable presence at such a late hour.”

A range of laughter followed the man’s proclamation. Lucius nearly felt too tired to be humiliated-- _nearly_. He was well aware of his temporary status as unfavored within the Dark Lord’s coterie. It was likely why the man had given him this assignment, expecting him to fail. But, Lucius thought victoriously, he didn’t.

Taking that as his cue Lucius began to stand and the Dark Lord crossed his long legs, situating himself on the couch as if it were his throne. 

“My Lord, the task you bestowed upon me was an arduous one, but I have carried it out to my fullest capabilities,” Lucius drew out a file from his robes and handed it to the Dark Lord, keeping his eyes to the ground. 

“I’m aware of what I asked of you.”

Only once he heard the whispering of papers did he dare look up. It was a privilege limited to inner circle Death Eaters to view the Dark Lord without his glamours. Firelight danced across cruel, handsome features. The red snake-split eyes remained, of course, but the man looked human and in his late twenties, not the pallid abomination he often masqueraded as. Lucius wondered if the Dark Lord guised himself because he thought his citizens wouldn’t take him seriously, fear him properly, if he appeared so young. Or perhaps it was to further separate him from the rest of the flock; Tom Riddle was a man, fallible, while Voldemort was an immortal power so warped and twisted that hell itself must have spit him up to earth. It solidified that it was by divine right he ruled.

The Dark Lord’s nimble fingers paused their rifling and he glanced up, searing Lucius with his red gaze. He was expectant. Wanted the blond to keep talking.

“He’s known as Kel,” Lucius drawled, surveying the living room with cold grey eyes. The few other Death Eaters were lounging about, listening with half an ear. “I’m at a loss as to how Chara _Lestrange--_ ” he felt vindicated when Rabastan and Rodolphus turned to glare at him “--managed to get her hands on a part-water nymph, but she has. He is one of Ganymede’s Heavyweights, used typically in their most dangerous pursuits. Brief eyewitness accounts put him anywhere from thirteen to thirty-five years old--” 

Rosier choked on laughter. Lucius willed his glare to solve the matter.

“--and evidently, very handsome.”

“That’s it?” Rosier asked. “So he’s not a child or someone’s grandfather? And he’s pretty, but, of course, I mean, if he’s nymph, I could’ve told you that. What about hair color? Eye color?”

Lucius tried not to convey his foul mood. “We can put his height at around six foot.” 

“Why are we talking about this Kel again?” asked Rabastan Lestrange. 

“Why wouldn’t Our Lord be interested in new members of an international crime syndicate,” Lucius said witheringly. His investigation hadn’t ended with Kel, of course, the blond always went above and beyond for their Lord. 

Barty Crouch Jr’s tongue flickered over his top lip. “Ganymede’s doing our job for us. Eliminating all this other bad activity polluting our realm. We should be rewarding them. Bringing them into our service.”

“That’s not their purpose, it’s merely a happy side-effect,” Lucius hissed. “They steal the contraband so they can sell it themselves. It ends up flooding the streets all the same.” 

“Continue with your report, Lucius,” the Dark Lord said sharply.

He nodded. “My source confirms our suspicion that Chara started Ganymede after escaping Azkaban,” Lucius said. “Her cellmate, Sirius Black, works as her second-in-command. They recruited Fabian and Gideon Prewett shortly thereafter, which might account for why we could never find them after fall of the Order of the Phoenix. Their newer associates are being introduced under aliases, such as Kel, but I have been able to match one so far. I’m positive the individual referred to as Pest is in fact Alexei Krum.”

Out of all the known members of Ganymede the person Lucius feared most was Alexei Krum, even over Chara. Lucius’s father had raised him on horror stories of Grindelwald’s personal hitwizards. Sensibly Lucius knew he could probably beat the old man in a duel, but the childish fear still lurked in the back of his mind. 

“Fascinating,” the Dark Lord drawled while lifting up a single sheet of paper. “Boar, Vampire, Shard… Kel? This new one doesn’t fit the naming scheme.” 

“Chara brought him in as a small boy,” Lucius hurried to say. “It could in fact be his real name, as he has no past to hide.”

The Dark Lord looked contemplatively at the sheet. “You’ve separated these members into categories: Strategists, Assassins, Duelists… he’s listed here as a Heavyweight, as you so proudly announced earlier. I don’t recall water nymphs as having any devastating ability.” 

Which was true, and something Lucius himself pondered. Water nymphs didn’t so much control their element as they did influence it. Areas with families of water nymphs saw an unnatural frequency in floods, for example. The most damaging power of theirs Lucius could think of was tide manipulation. Perhaps Kel was only used for excursions near the docks or on ships? Or maybe his Heavyweight status had nothing to do with his nymph bloodline and it was simply in reference to his wizardly talents.

“I was not the one to make the list, My Lord.” Lucius bowed his head submissively, skin coldly prickling at the thought of being punished for his lapse. “My contact wrote it as we were speaking. I’m ignorant as to the specifics of what he meant with the term ‘Heavyweight’, my apologies.” 

The Dark Lord’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully and turned to look into the fire. Flames danced in his irises, making them appear multifaceted and eerily vibrant. “Your contact is dead, I presume?”

“I had thought his usefulness run out, My Lord.”

“Pity... No matter, that vile witch can present herself whichever way she prefers but she is nothing more than a niffler. A playful, overconfident creature who can’t resist shiny things.” A shadow of a smirk crossed the man’s lips as a sadistic glint entered his eyes. “She's predictable. We’ll have this delightful puzzle solved quickly. You are dismissed.”

Morgana have mercy. Did the Dark Lord intend to involve _himself_ in this mess?

The blond’s gait was quick and jerky as he restrained himself from running out. He could hear his colleagues’ phantom chuckling at his heels. Though Lucius hadn’t been invited to stay, he knew he had absolved himself in his Lord’s eyes. The man didn’t need to be so obvious as to say 'good job' for Lucius to get the hint.

Chara Lestrange wasn’t a woman Lucius liked by any means. She was selfish and cruel and she acted upon the world like a cat acted upon a canary. The Dark Lord was similar, yet his plans were rooted in making the world a better place. Chara was a directionless spinning top contented by the mere act of causing destruction. Lucius wondered if she weren't still doing all this simply because of the bad blood born between she and the Dark Lord during their school days. He supposed it wasn't worth pondering. From the Dark Lord’s smile, Lucius knew the proud matriarch wouldn't be living much longer.

She should’ve stayed quiet after escaping Azkaban.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters will be longer after this one. And no, siren =/= water nymph ;)


End file.
